


Routines

by alphabetatoes



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphabetatoes/pseuds/alphabetatoes
Summary: Emma Perkins was accustomed to a certain routine. But one Tuesday night, Paul Matthews, who was previously incognito for 10 years, shows up to the same diner as Emma. Naturally, she's hungry for answers.





	Routines

Routine is a funny thing. You become so accustomed to a certain routine that as soon as the smallest deviation occurs, it feels like your world is tossed on it’s side.

Emma undoubtedly was an advocate for routine. School, work, eat, sleep. Repeat until success or death. Keeping to routine prevented surprises and allowed her to feel some sort of responsibility. The responsibility her parents never seemed to acknowledge that she had. 

Part of this routine was sitting outside the Hatchetfield diner every Tuesday night, waiting to pick up her order.

Emma sat in her car, watching the clock on her dashboard turn to 5:54. This particular Tuesday, she was 6 minutes early. But she was not about to break routine.

After checking her phone for what felt like the thousandth time, she decided it was time to people watch.

Zoey and Nora were closing up Beanie’s for the day, and Professor Hidgens sat on a bench in the courtyard reading what looked to be some sort of scientific journal. Everyone looked to be following their own separate routines and-

No shit!

Paul Matthews walked past her car and straight into the diner. 

She hadn’t seen him in what, 10 years maybe? Although they didn’t attend the same high school, Hatchetfield was a small enough town that most all the people knew each other. Paul was like a rogue though. While a majority of their graduating class attended Hatchetfield Community College (or one of the colleges in the neighboring cities), Paul went to ‘find himself’. Hiking, biking, skiing, anything under the sun, and all documented on social media for everyone to enjoy.

Just in time for Emma to find out why Paul was back in Hatchetfield of all places for the first time in years. 

As Emma made her way into the diner, she felt a rush of cold air hit her. It was the adrenaline pump she needed to go up and talk to Paul.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that Paul Matthews?”, Emma said, smiling.

“In the flesh.” Paul smirked. He motioned for her to sit at the booth with him.

As she sat down, she began to ask Paul what the hell he could have been up to in 10 years. He explained his reasoning for disappearing. Staying there felt like a cliche. Like there was nothing more for him than the confines of the city. Escaping from that allowed Paul to do whatever he wanted while he was still young enough to do it, and if he messed up, he couldn’t be judged for his mistakes. And definitely not 5000 miles from home.

“EMMA PERKINS. YOUR ORDER IS READY.” The cashiers mic echoed through the nearly vacant diner. 

As Emma went up to grab her order, Paul followed closely behind to pay his bill.

“I’ll pay for your meal if you promise to answer any other questions I might have as to where the hell you’ve been.” 

“I’m not passing up the opportunity for a free meal.” Paul seemed elated that Emma had taken such an interest in where he had been. 

“Diner closes in 5 minutes.” The cashier said dryly, handing Emma her change.

“Why does every place in this town close at fucking 6:30? On a Tuesday?!” Emma joked, earning a chuckle from Paul (and maybe to the cashiers dismay).

“How about we discuss this further over a cup of coffee tomorrow?’

“Beanie’s?’ Emma said, motioning to her uniform as she did.

“It’s a date.” Paul winked.

Touche. This was the first change in her routine Emma had in what felt like years. But some people are worth the change, right?


End file.
